


Self-Conclusion

by Ciphon



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Blood, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mention of blood, Mild Gore, Romantic Fluff, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-17
Updated: 2015-06-17
Packaged: 2018-04-04 19:48:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4150581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ciphon/pseuds/Ciphon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The figure on top of the cliff is still there, and his legs carry him closer, so the shape takes form. His heart already knows who it is, however. His sister—no, no; as he gets closer, he notices the headpiece is missing. He realizes the figure seems a bit stouter than Emmeryn. His heart is already on the ground, but somehow it seems to sink lower.</p>
<p>[In which Chrom has a nightmare and Robin is there to comfort him]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Self-Conclusion

**Author's Note:**

> [Bonus points for anyone who recognizes the title]

The harsh wind is like a thousand ice cold whips against his skin. His whole body screams in protest as he runs, desperately tripping over his own two feet, arm extended as though he could somehow reach her quicker that way. He tries to shout, but a breathless heave escapes his throat instead. He’s been here before.

The figure on top of the cliff is still there, and his legs carry him closer, so the shape takes form. His heart already knows who it is, however. His sister—no, no; as he gets closer, he notices the headpiece is missing. He realizes the figure seems a bit stouter than Emmeryn. His heart is already on the ground, but somehow it seems to sink lower.

“Robin,” his voice breaks, seeing her up there this time. It’s a miracle his feet don’t give out from underneath him, and he struggles to continue running, though it’s as difficult as running through sand. 

She’s closer, now, though. He can see her silver white hair, her large coat blowing in the wind. “You’re too late,” she says, though the voice doesn’t seem to be her own. “This is all because of you,” it’s too filled with disdain, utter and complete loathing, to be Robin’s. 

But in his heart, he knows it’s hers. His running falters for a moment at her words, but as he watches one of her feet move out, as though she intends to step onto some invisible platform in front of the cliff, his legs kick into overdrive. “ROBIN!” his lungs burn as he forces the word out, a million thoughts running through his head.

Her body falls quickly, seemingly with purpose. Chrom watches in horror as her coat billows behind her in the wind, her hair flowing back like a white fire above her head. She seems to freeze for a moment, mid-fall, and he can’t help but think how she looks like an angel, falling from heaven. 

And then there’s a sickening smack against ground and it’s over. 

Chrom wishes he could look away, but his eyes seem to be sewn open. His whole body seems to shake with each step forth, closer and closer to her now limp body. There’s blood, pooling around slowly, and her limbs are twisted into weird, gruesome ways that could never be possible otherwise. 

He’s crying now, he can feel the tears on his cheeks, though his eyes remain clear, forcing him to view the scene with complete clarity. He’d seen millions of dead men, women, and children, all killed in various and gruesome ways. And yet, he knows that no matter how hard he tries, he will never be able to forget this image. He falls to his knees by her mangled body, desperately reaching out to cradle her gently. “Robin,” he sobs. His clothes and arms are quickly stained by her blood, and he finds his mouth saying the words before he realizes that he means them—“I love you,” and he knows that it’s in the present tense, and will always be true.

And then he cries, clutching her closer. He hears nothing but his own sobs, and the sound of the wind whistling around in the desert wasteland. He’s alone, completely and utterly alone now.

“—rom. Chrom!” It’s Robin’s voice, sounding distant. His head snaps up, looking around quickly, scanning the horizon for the source of the sound. He looks down to her body, which still remains limp in his arms. Then, the body’s hand reaches out, grabbing his shoulder. Her eyes are open, and burning a bright, demon-like red. His heart hammers in his chest and he begins to scream—

“CHROM!” 

His eyes snap open, unaware that he’d ever closed them. He could still feel a hand on his shoulder, and he scrambled to remove it, crawling back quickly.

His chest heaved rapidly as he panted, hand moving on its own to grab Falchion, which always rested within arm’s reach of his bed—and, though he’d never admit it, sometimes within his arms while in bed.

His eyes quickly moved around, relief slowly settling in as he realized just where he was-in his tent, sitting upright on his cot. And Robin was there, staring at him carefully, having given him space once he had begun flailing. 

“R-Robin..? You—“ He struggled for words, his mind processing that it was a dream, though he still felt completely shaken by it. He rubbed his eye with the heel of his palm, feeling his forehead covered in a cold sweat. Chrom was still trying to catch his breath, and gently placed Falchion back down in her resting place.

“I came by your tent to let you know what the scouts had to report about the enemy lines ahead,” Robin explained. Absentmindedly, Chrom found comfort in hearing her speak like this- not with the hatred he’d head before in his nightmare. “I went to wake you up because I believed it to be important- but then I found you thrashing around a bit, and figured you were having a nightmare…” She trailed off for a second, not moving from where she was standing at the side of his bed.

Chrom’s breathing had returned to normal by now, but there was something slightly unnerving about seeing someone whom you just witnessed die, standing by your bed, acting like everything was completely fine. He desperately wanted to reach out, to press his face against her chest and listen to her heartbeat; to be reassured that she was indeed alive, that her death hadn’t somehow been his fault. 

Robin sensed his hesitation, and that he was still frazzled by whatever happened in his dream. She paused, knowing that the scout’s report was important, but also feeling sympathetic for the prince. It hadn’t been very long since Emmeryn had died, and she knew he needed comfort.

Robin shifted her weight between her two feet, before glancing down at the bed. “May I?” she asked politely. Chrom looked at her, a bit puzzled, and she could properly see how weary he looked. There were circles under his eyes, and she knew that these sort of nightmares were common. He nodded after a moment, however, and Robin sat down slowly. 

“The way I look at nightmares is, that, they’re just your mind coming up with the worst case scenario,” Robin said, Chrom’s eyes slowly moving up to watch her. “They can never come true, though, and only exist in your mind. You can’t be hurt in a dream or nightmare, and neither can anyone else,” she wasn’t used to comforting people, but she did notice Chrom’s muscles relax a tiny bit at her words, which was a good sign. 

“Do you have nightmares often?” Robin then asked, watching Chrom carefully. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, opening his mouth briefly before closing it. He decided to be truthful.

“Mostly after Em’s death,” he replied softly. When he looked up, he expected to see pity or sympathy in Robin’s eyes, but they remained level and calm. He couldn’t help but be thankful for how she always seemed to be a rock compared to him- she always seemed to think carefully before acting, which was a trait he very much admired in her. 

“Is that what happened in your nightmare tonight?” She asked, causing Chrom’s muscles to tense. He briefly wondered if he should be honest—they had become a lot closer lately, fighting together on the battlefield in perfect harmony, accidentally walking in on each other in the bath tents…

“No,” he found himself saying before he could double think himself. “..Well, sort of. Except, it wasn’t Em who died,” he paused, mentally deciding to just go for it, to just be honest and see what happens—“It was you. You…You jumped instead of her. And, you said it…Was my fault…” He wasn’t sure why he added on the last bit, though he knew that he would probably never forget hearing her say those words.

Robin blinked for a second hearing his words; definitely not expecting that response. “Chrom…I’d never do that.” She finally found her voice after a moment of silence. “I would never leave you…Or the Shepards,” she tacked on the last part as an afterthought, a slight heat rising in her ears. “I have a duty to you, everyone, and to Ylisse. I will always be around to be your tactician. And your friend.” Robin gave him a small, reassuring smile after that, and Chrom paused.

Silently, Chrom wondered how she always seemed to know exactly what to say to soothe him. He moved his hand out, setting it on her shoulder. She didn’t tense up or flinch under his touch, and he took that as an okay to keep going. He softly rubbed her upper arm absentmindedly, before slowly wrapping his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into a hug. 

Robin was a tiny bit surprised by his actions, but knew that this sort of comfort was important, sometimes even necessary to those in emotional distress, so she gently raised her own arms around him as well, trying to ignore the quickening of her heartbeat. Chrom practically enveloped her whole body in his arms. She was so brave and strong on the battlefield, sometimes he almost forgot just how much smaller she was than him. She fit perfectly against him, and he couldn’t help but wish that their embrace wouldn’t end. He considered asking her to stay the night, but knew that would be inappropriate, no matter how much he desperately wanted to hold her while he slept. 

His mind wandered briefly back to his in-dream confession, and his cheeks warmed a bit at the memory. In the back of his mind, he couldn’t help but hope that if—or when he confessed to her, it’d be under different circumstances. 

Not knowing when he’d ever get the chance to hug her like this again- Chrom moved his head a tiny bit, resting his chin on top of her head- something he secretly had wanted to do for a while. “I just…I can’t lose you.” He admittedly quietly. 

Robin knew they were venturing into dangerous waters- she knew that this sort of relationship, while trying to maintain a professional one during battle wasn’t very smart. Yet, there was a small tug in her chest, a part of her that wanted to keep being held by him. She was tired and stressed, always burning the midnight oil, reading dense ancient books on tactics to study harder and plan out marches for the next day, then fighting for her life and ensuring no other lives were lost in battle. This right now, however, was relaxing. It was something that calmed her and made her feel…safe. 

So, for once, she spoke for herself, not as his tactician or comrade, but as a friend. As Robin. “You won’t,” she promised, ignoring the golden rule of never making a promise you couldn’t keep. 

And then he held her tighter.


End file.
